


a world of constellations

by wolfofwinterfell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Hogwarts, M/M, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Romance, all the stars in the sky, these two are precious cinnamon rolls, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:08:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfofwinterfell/pseuds/wolfofwinterfell
Summary: “Ah… That. I was…drawing.” He grinned and moved to close the gap between them. Their kiss was not the slow, romantic ones that he knew Remus liked more than anything. It was the sort they always had after weeks apart, whether it was upon their first embrace or the tenth, the sort that seemed to be a mutual agreement that there was going to be more to come. It was a starved kiss, one that said more than any words could. And when they took a moment to breathe, when Remus let out a low growl, Sirius glanced out the window at the stars that started it all.





	a world of constellations

“Sirius, what’re you doing?” Remus’s voice was quiet, his words somewhat slower than usual. He’d almost been asleep when he started feeling Sirius’s finger on the back of his shoulder, the touch light yet still more electrifying than anything Remus could understand. “And when did you get home?”  
  
“Ah, just a bit ago. Didn’t think I’d wake you.” He didn’t stop his touching as he spoke, though he did shift a bit closer. “Lily sends her best... and she’s asked us round for tea tomorrow. Says they’ve got something to ask us.”  
  
“Mm.” Remus closed his eyes again even though he knew sleep was going to be delayed now - not that he minded. He only had a few days home before he was due to go up to Edinburgh and as much as he enjoyed the chance to actually _rest_ , he relished every opportunity he had to just be with Sirius. He could give up a night of sleeping. “And what are we to do ‘til then, since you’re clearly in no mood to go to bed?”

That got the touching to stop.

Sirius arched a brow behind him , his eyes bright and playful. “Oh, I’ll go to bed all right.”

Remus laughed and rolled over to face his boyfriend (and _there_ was a word he still wasn’t used to saying, much as he loved it). He leaned closer to him, close enough that he knew Sirius was expecting a kiss and would pout about not getting one, and then paused. “Before I agree to anything, I need to know what you were trying to do when you woke me up.”

“Ah… That. I was…drawing.” He grinned and moved to close the gap between them. Their kiss was not the slow, romantic ones that he knew Remus liked more than anything. It was the sort they always had after weeks apart, whether it was upon their first embrace or the tenth, the sort that seemed to be a mutual agreement that there was going to be more to come. It was a starved kiss, one that said more than any words could. And when they took a moment to breathe, when Remus let out a low growl, Sirius glanced out the window at the stars that started it all.

Later that night, when they’d exhausted each other, Sirius moved onto his side to face Remus again. He hesitated before he moved his hand, torn between wanting to let him slip into the realm of sleep and wanting to just _touch_ him more.

“What is it, Padfoot?” Once again, his eyes were closed, but this time he was far from sleeping. “I can feel you thinking.”

“I think you and Lily would call it a need for artistic expression.” Sirius grinned. “I’m just inspired by you.”

Remus’s lips twitched into a smile. “Then by all means, explore and express.”

Sirius reached out, then, and touched the first of the freckles he saw on Remus’s left forearm. He moved up in a long line, then down shortly, long again, and then short to complete the rectangle. He moved down to Remus’s hip then, tracing the shape of something that vaguely resembled a hat. And then his thigh. Over to his side…  his other shoulder. Collarbone.

Remus twitched at each one, wanting to stop Sirius more and more the longer that he touched him and have his way with the wizard again. But he was determined to let Sirius finish whatever it was he was doing… and so the moment Sirius stopped, he moved over him, intent on starting round two.

“Now, now, Moony!” Sirius feigned outrage. “You didn’t even let me tell you what I was doing!”

Remus sighed, then, though he smiled. “You’re right. I’m sorry. So what exactly were you up to, if you only wanted some more snogging?”

At that, Sirius rolled them over again so that he was on top, and sat up. “Drawing.”

“But...there’s no ink.” Remus frowned. “Or marks.”

“I was... mapping out some stars.” He suddenly felt foolish for it, but the way that Remus’s brown eyes softened made him keep going. “Creating constellations.”

“Yeah?”

So Sirius touched them again, outlining each one in turn and naming them all as he went.

“Um… So we’ve got Chocolate Bar here on your forearm. And then Minnie’s Hat. Ugly Jumper.”

Remus was laughing at Minnie’s Hat, and reached up to shove at Sirius’s shoulder gently. “Bloody hell, Minnie’s Hat. Okay, so what’re the rest, then?”

“Oh, you know we all love her.” Sirius rolled his eyes and traced the lines between the freckles on Remus’s right side as he carried on. “Fuzzy Baby Owl is here on your side. Then on your shoulder there’s Bowtruckle. And your collar bone? Yeah. Quidditch Pitch. There’s one missing though.”

“Yeah?” Remus’s tone had dropped. “What is that one?”

Sirius took a deep breath and then drew Canis Major on the werewolf’s chest, taking care to put more emphasis on one particular spot right over his heart. “That one’s where I belong.”

 

* * *

 

It was harder, at first, to suppress the thoughts of anything good. His heart wanted to latch onto all the good, to use that to try to make it through the day. His heart said that if he just thought of his friends, of Remus, in any way that he could...that’s how he would survive. But his brain knew better, and it didn’t need the first passing of a dementor to remember that. It got easier, in a way, with every passing day to pretend that none of the good had happened because all of that was _his_ and he would be damned if he let go of it.

So the only thought he really let run through his head was that he was innocent. It wasn’t a _happy_ thought; James and Lily were dead, Remus thought him a murderer and a traitor, and he refused to even think of Peter. His friends from the Order no longer considered him a friend. All in all, knowing he was innocent was just the only thing he could latch onto without fear of giving it up.

And on days where it was just too hard, too much to bear, he slipped into the form of the black dog he’d once so loved being. Even then, he wouldn’t let himself look out at the night sky...at the stars he loved almost as much as the man he’d traced them onto.

 

* * *

 

Azkaban. An island in the middle of the North Sea. A prison, that was so much more than a prison.

Sirius. An island in the middle of the war. A safe haven, and yet there was so much more to Sirius than that.

Azkaban plus Sirius. The two didn’t go together.

He tried to ignore the lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow, the ache in his soul, that part of him that he could never heal no matter what he did. It was easier to handle during the day, when he had students in his classroom or meetings with staff, assignments to plan and grade. It was at night that he really struggled, because when he wasn't a prisoner of the moon, his shackles were chained to the stars and the memories of the man who'd made his own constellations.

 

* * *

 

The morning he broke out of Azkaban, his first thought was on getting away from the wretched place. He’d planned his escape for several days before he executed it; moving closer to the door when his food was brought to test the response. There wasn’t really one. The dementors were confused and couldn’t figure out what was happening. He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to actually get out of the prison, but he remembered swimming to the mainland - the roaring of the wind, the cold of the water...the spray of the waves crashing against him, the burning of his muscles. The way the sand felt beneath his paws, when he finally reached the shore.

He made it to a copse of trees, where he knew he could hide just long enough to recover the strength he needed to travel, and as much as he wanted to be human again, he knew he was too close to the dementors to risk it.

And so he waited.

By late afternoon, he had gone far enough north to feel safe. He waited until dark, and then cautiously shifted back under the shelter of the woods. Wasting no time, he crept to the edge of the treeline, desperate to see the sky.

His eyes were closed at first - he’d never admit it, but he was scared to drop those boundaries he’d had to put up for so many years. But the lure of a happy memory of  James and Lily, of Harry, of _Remus_ , was too strong...and he opened his eyes with an excitement he’d long forgotten about.

The memories came flooding back, fast from the start and then coming so quickly by end that he couldn’t keep up. There was the day the Potters let him come live with them, treating him like their own son. There was the day they graduated from Hogwarts. The day they joined the Order. The day he and Remus first kissed. The first time they made love...and the last. The day Lily told them she was pregnant. The day Harry was born and James asked Sirius to be his godfather. The look on Remus’s face when Sirius asked him if he’d like to be a parent some day. The way Remus had looked at him when he’d opened random presents (a large stack of books and a jumper he’d been fancying for months) just a week before Lily and James were murdered… and the night they’d spent in bed when Remus had let him map his body in stars.

Sirius had thought he could handle the return of happiness. He thought it would be good.

And it was.

He could only stand for a moment before he was crying, and as his body shuddered with the force of his sobs, he collapsed to the ground under the force of the memories he - by all accounts - should have lost.   

 

* * *

 

_“Meet me at the old haunt when you’ve left the school. Dumbledore’s kept it up for us. I can’t stay long, he’s warned, but please….come.”_

Remus had gotten the note as he was nearing the castle’s gates - and not a  moment too soon. He hadn’t any idea where he was going to go, really, but thought that maybe he’d go to Bristol. There were a few werewolves he was friendly with there who wouldn’t mind his company for a few days...and maybe he would still go there after he met Sirius.

His heart raced. _Sirius_. He was going to see him again in just a few more minutes.

For twelve years, he’d thought about him. For twelve years, he had prayed for some explanation that made sense because the Sirius Black he knew - that he loved - would not have betrayed his friends. For twelve years, he had wanted to share the ups and downs of daily life with him. He never thought it would actually happen.

But he knew it all now. He knew it and he felt as though he might burst, both from happiness and sadness, because just as he got Sirius back he was going to lose him again. _‘Don’t think of that, Remus.’_

He reached a hand up to knock on the door of the flat that he and Sirius had rented so many years ago, and when it opened to reveal the striking grey eyes he’d dreamt of so much, he slumped against the doorframe.

“Alright there, Moony?” Sirius’s brow was raised.  He was gaunt these days, and still a bit disheveled from life during and after Azkaban, but in many ways he hadn’t changed.

“Shut up, Padfoot. You’re not much better yourself.” Remus’s mouth twitched as he tried to tamp down a smile, and he finally moved into the flat so they could close the door.  

Sirius laughed at the comment, his real, barking laugh that was so familiar to them both, and stayed just far enough back that they couldn’t touch, in case Remus wanted the distance. The moment the door clicked shut and Sirius looked up, he felt like he was going to give way like he had his first night free from Azkaban.

There was no mistaking the emotion written all over Remus. No need for words. Just a shared acknowledgement of a relationship that neither had ever wanted to believe had ended, and a mutual agreement that _now_ was the time to re-explore.

And so doors were locked and robes were shed, and as Remus stepped out of the shadows to meet Sirius halfway, Sirius had to blink away tears. Gone were the freckles, replaced with scars... but the stars that he saw before were still there - slightly faded, but still there, survivors through the years, the tiredness that went beyond any words, and the pain nobody else could fully relate to.

He lifted a hand to trace the shape of Canis Major on Remus’s chest, taking care to put more emphasis on one particular spot right over his heart. “That one’s where I belong,” he whispered.

And in that moment, Sirius understood that all those years, it wasn’t only stars that were in his eyes...but also his whole world.


End file.
